


the night breeze carries something sweet

by quantumoddity



Series: Widomauk Modern AU [3]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Reunion Sex, Trans Caleb Widogast, Trans Male Character, Trans Mollymauk Tealeaf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-07-10 16:27:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15953159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quantumoddity/pseuds/quantumoddity
Summary: Caleb has been away for a long time, studying in another city, and Molly is eager to celebrate his return-Requested on tumblr





	the night breeze carries something sweet

“Mollymauk? Molly? Dear, I think there’s enough sugar in there now…”

Molly’s ears picked up suddenly, his eyes pulled away from fervently watching the busy street outside the café window by Caduceus’ voice. He realised that he was still holding the sugar dispenser over his coffee, that a steady stream of white was still merrily pouring into the cup and had been for some time now, turning the drink cloudy and probably undrinkable.

“Oh…” he mumbled, rather feebly, setting the glass back down and wondering if his dignity would be salvageable if he just stubbornly drank it anyway and gave himself diabetes in the process.

“Distracted, are we?” Clay asked delicately from behind the counter where he was already putting together another latte for his friend. It was no trouble, customers were few and far between this late on a Monday night and Mollymauk looked as if he could use some warm, caffeinated distraction. Though maybe he’d make this one stealthily decaffeinated, the poor tiefling looked wired enough.

Molly grunted in response, resting his head listlessly in his hands against the aged wooden flat top. As much as he tried to force his eyes downwards and at least act vaguely normal, they kept stubbornly drifting to the window again, searching the faces sweeping past in the gathering dusk. His heart rose with each new one and sank almost immediately when it wasn’t the right one, quickly making him feel ill, as if he were on some kind of rollercoaster all while just perched on the stool at the counter of the Nestled Nook.

“He should be back by now…” he muttered distractedly, under his voice though Caduceus’ large ears flickered and picked it up.

“The train must be delayed,” the firbolg soothed as he slid drink number two across to Molly, “I’m sure that’s all it is. You know he’s as eager to get back as you are to see him.”

He bit his lip, not really in any mood to hear any comforting words, even from a friend, just restlessly drumming elaborately painted nails against the side of his mug. He always poured his attention into tiny things when he was feeling forlorn and two nights ago it had been his nails; currently they were a deep purple with intricate, glittering gold pattern work done with a toothpick. It had taken his mind of missing Caleb for a full evening.

 

“He said six. He said his train got in at quarter to and he’d be here by six…”

Caduceus nodded slowly. He hadn’t needed to ask what was wrong when Molly had slumped into the counter seat nearly an hour ago. All of the friends had been kept well up to date with this tumultuous week, where Caleb was away for a whole three months, off in a city on the other side of the country to do research in a sister academy’s even vaster library. With Molly trapped on the verge of a new production opening at the theatre, the two had been very reluctantly separated for the longest time ever since they’d met.

The tiefling had been, understandably though not exactly forgivably, insufferable the entire time and if Caleb’s texts were anything to go by, he’d been exactly the same. Caduceus quietly pitied whoever owned the coffee shop closest to that other library as they’d probably had a scruffy, mournful Caleb haunting their establishment for the last three months like a plaid ghost. Just like he’d had an increasingly agitated and restless Mollymauk glued to his counter, checking his phone every two seconds for texts from his boyfriend and grumbling loudly when there wouldn’t be one nine times out of every ten.

But the torture was nearly over. Or rather, it should have been fifteen minutes ago. Though the evening was rough; the world beyond the window, beyond the brightly and cheerfully painted letters that spelled out the name of the café, was slick and shimmering as rain came down in sheets. No wonder Caleb was running a little late, Caduceus thought, though poor Molly was past such common sense, only desperately wanting to see his boyfriend again.

Caduceus was considering playing Molly’s favourite albums over the speakers to try and cheer him up, temporarily lifting last year’s blanket ban on folk music, instated after he’d wheedled him into playing the same song to death even after several customers had complained.

But then Molly suddenly jerked bolt upright and the door chimed as someone walked in. Someone in a dripping wet trench coat, with auburn hair plastered to their head, a scarf around their neck that looked like a drowned snake and the most relieved and joyful expression on their face.

 

Molly nearly sent the stool crashing to the floor as he leapt up and launched himself at Caleb, unashamedly. Caleb’s arms were wide and ready for him, gathering him up and clasping him tightly, the two of them uncertain whether to laugh with relief or sob with joy.

Molly chose the former, Caleb the latter.

“I’m sorry, I’m soaking…” Caleb murmured into Molly’s hair, in between pressing frantic kisses to his head.

“It’s fine,” Molly giggled and he truly didn’t care, even as rainwater started turning the front of his shirt dark and damp, “Fuck, I missed you so much. Never leave me again, okay?”

“Never,” Caleb promised, voice thick,” Never ever.”

The rest could only be said with kisses, Molly catching Caleb’s face in his hands, wincing a little at how cold and wind burnt it was though it didn’t deter him as he pressed their lips together. He could almost say that all those nights in his big, lonely bed, falling asleep with the phone digging grooves in his palms and his cheek after a painful goodbye, were worth it just for how sweet and lovely that first kiss was. Almost.

“You’re so cold…” Molly murmured, letting his hands flit from his cheeks to his neck to his shoulders, trying to warm him up with the natural heat of his skin.

He knew of a much better way to warm him up quickly and could see in Caleb’s eyes that he was having similar ideas but there was that damnable sign on the bathroom door and Caduceus was definitely going to notice something if he seized his boyfriend by the front of his coat and led him in that direction. Once bitten, twice shy.

Which meant home. Home back to the way it was supposed to be, with Caleb’s coat on the hook by the door, his long red hairs clinging to the shower door, his books on the coffee table next to a cooling, forgotten mug, his hand never far from Molly’s.

Home.

 

Fortunately, it wasn’t a long trip and Mollymauk had an umbrella though it was made slightly longer by the two of them nearly constantly snagging each other for kisses.

Caleb gave a cry of delight as the door was pushed open and warm light flooded the apartment, “Frumpkin!”

The cat seemed just as pleased to see him, darting from the cushion he was sat on to rub himself against Caleb’s ankles, purring like an engine in bad need of repair.

“How was he?” he asked, scooping him up and cradling him against his chest like a baby, Frumpkin kneading his arm gladly, “Were you two nice to each other?”  

“Who, Freeloader?” Molly grinned as he tossed his bag and coat down, “Sweet as pie. You know how well me and him get on.”

A blatant lie. Molly and Frumpkin were long time mortal enemies turned reluctant roommates, constantly competing for Caleb’s attentions. Neither of them had been pleased by the fact that Caleb’s accommodation during his research didn’t allow pets or magical familiars of any kind. It had been a long three months of deliberately shedding on clothes, being chased off said clothes, knocking vases and photo frames off high surfaces, cursing and hissing and glaring at each other from opposite ends of the sofa.

And of course now he was a little furry angel, gazing up at Caleb with full moon, amber eyes dripping with adoration. Typical.

Once extracted from his cat’s welcome home, Molly pressed Caleb up against the wall in the way that he knew drove him absolutely wild, kissing him with much more intent, gasping softly as his lips parted for him. Caleb responded eagerly, as hungry for this as Molly. Phone sex and naked pictures were fun in their own way but after a whole three months, they’d proved a very poor substitute for this.

“Gods, Molly…” Caleb whimpered lightly as his boyfriend pushed the shirt away from his shoulders after practically tearing through the buttons. He was in no mood for patience or care, he wanted him so badly it was a metallic taste in the back of his mouth and a flaring ache between his legs.

They blindly made their way towards the bedroom, a hopeless tangle of limbs scrabbling with the doorknob, nearly tripping over the edge of the rug. Along the way, Caleb’s jeans were abandoned, as well as all four of their shoes, socks, Caleb’s boxers and packer, Molly’s tights (which Frumpkin immediately seated himself on as a final act of defiance).

Mollymauk found himself tipping suddenly, fortunately down onto the bed which rushed up to catch him, knocking the air out of him with a breathless laugh. Caleb soon came tumbling on top of him and Molly immediately began pressing kiss after kiss to his jaw, neck, chest, re-familiarising himself with all the hollows and lines and ridges he loved so much, with the rapid hammering of Caleb’s heart behind his ribs, so alive and real.

He’d missed it more than words could possibly say. So, he intended to express it by fucking Caleb so hard he wouldn’t be able to walk straight for at least a day.

 

Though he found his plans suddenly interrupted as Caleb froze in his grip and pulled away.

“Hey…” Mollymauk whined pathetically, “What gives?”

Caleb looked surprised as he fingered the fabric of Molly’s shirt, “You…you’re wearing my shirt?”

Shit. Molly had forgotten that.

The shirt was in fact Caleb’s. One of his favourite ones in fact that Molly had snatched from his suitcase the day he left and stuffed under his pillow. Mustard yellow plaid with brown lines and fraying hems, it was as quintessentially Caleb as it was possible to be and carried all of his musky, bookish and coffee scent. Molly had been sleeping with it pressed to his nose most nights, inhaling deeply as he could in an effort to not cry himself to sleep, and wearing it during the day though only around the flat. Gods only knew the comments that Beau would make if they saw him dressed like this. In his rush to get to the Nook and count down the minutes until he saw his boyfriend again, he’d forgotten to change.

Caleb began to laugh bemusedly, face frozen in exaggerated shock, “Dear gods! What happened, did you go temporarily blind this morning? Is hobo couture on the catwalks right now?”

“Shut up man…” Molly felt his face flushing and he pressed himself to Caleb’s collarbone to try and hide it, “Come on, back to fucking…”

“No, no, no,” Caleb caught him and pulled him back, eyes shining, “Seriously, what gives? I thought everything I wore was, and I quote, ‘only fit to reupholster the awful furniture in some old geezer’s depressing man cave.’”

Molly snorted, bashful and coy, two expressions that had almost never appeared on his face but only made him more tempting to Caleb for all that. 

“Look, I…I really, really missed you, okay?” he mumbled, biting his lip, “And wearing your clothes, having your smell on me…it helped.”

Caleb’s expression turned gentle, soft as the well-worn cotton of the shirt Molly wore, his fingers delicately tracing the lines of his jaw, “Well…I didn’t think my smell was something people actually wanted? But you’re very sweet.”

“Hey, I keep you right these days, your stink’s decreased considerably,” Molly smirked, flicking his arm lightly.

Caleb snorted, “I just can’t believe you’re wearing my clothes…”

He punctuated that with a kiss to his forehead, rolling them gently so Molly was the one on top. His voice suddenly turned huskier, his pupils widened a little, none of which the tiefling’s hunter eyes missed.

“Hey…could you keep that on? My shirt, I mean, the rest can come off but…”

In almost the blink of an eye, without another word being said, Molly’s skirt, binder and underwear were on the floor and all that lay underneath the dark fabric that still held Caleb’s scent, Caleb’s ink marks, was a skin that wasn’t his own. The material curved in a way it never had on him, hugging the fullness of Molly’s chest, stretching and revealing in the most teasing way. Purple as a winter sunset, soft as silk, burning hot under his still cold hands as he slipped them past the lip of the fabric.

How he’d lived without it, Caleb had no idea.

“Do you want to…or I could…” he whispered hoarsely.

Ever the decisive one, Molly rested his hand on Caleb’s chest, “Just give me a moment to get the harness on, darling. You stay right there looking pretty.”

It was a simple process and one Molly was well versed in. It was made even lovelier by Caleb lying on his side and watching the whole thing with a devoted, ravenous gaze, moaning softly under his breath at every snap of the leather and ring of the buckles.

Purple skin brushed lightly over amber as Molly pushed his knees to his chest, purring delightedly at what he found, “Baby, you’re so wet for me…missed me, huh?”

Caleb whimpered and nodded in response, running the fabric of his shirt through his fingers as Molly positioned himself, the toy shining in the low light as the whole length of it buried into Caleb with a soft sound and a throaty cry from Caleb.

“Fuck, that’s it,” Molly shuddered, feeling the pressure right on the spot he needed it most, almost as good as Caleb’s long legs anchoring around his waist, “You’re home.”

The headboard began to thump rhythmically against the back wall, reliably hitting the twin spots where the paint was already chipping and the plaster already denting. Caleb twisted and whimpered beneath him as the toy that Molly operated as skilfully as if it really was his skin and bone pressed him on and on towards the edge.

Molly was in a generous mood, holding nothing back as his hips rolled back and forth, giving Caleb everything he needed and feeling warmth flood through him in turn, that deep sense of pleasure from being connected to the man he loved. His own fingers dug into Caleb’s hips while those long, arched ones worn from writing and reading so much twisted and grasped at the pillows.

For a shy man, Caleb was so vocal in bed, narrating his clamber towards the edge, gasping and moaning, cursing breathlessly in any of his many languages and, over and over, Molly’s name. Molly himself was focused and determined, growling low in his chest with desire.

Though when his own orgasm dragged him under, completely by surprise after he’d been so absorbed in Caleb, he screamed his boyfriend’s name and was vaguely aware of his own name being moaned in a shuddering voice heavy with relief.

Mollymauk didn’t expect to be as out of breath as he was when it was finished, as he pressed his forehead to Caleb’s and kissed him long and slow and lazy.

“I love you…I love you…” he murmured vaguely hands stroking back the hair from his damp forehead.

“I love you too,” Caleb rasped, “I’m never leaving again, I swear. Fuck it, I’m never leaving this bed again.”

Molly laughed raggedly, rolling out of him and off him, too exhausted to consider taking the harness off yet which amused Caleb no end, flicking the cock lightly and watching it wobble back and forth and giggling helplessly.

“Grow up,” Molly snorted, lying close to him, arm pillowing his head so he could stroke his hair.

“Shut up,” Caleb grunted in response, grinning, “I’m going to need that shirt back, y’know.”

“Too late, it’s mine now,” Molly purred, letting his heavy eyes close, all the sleepless nights when he’d been alone suddenly rushing to catch up with him, “You’re never getting this back.”

Caleb groaned and rolled his eyes but, in all honestly, he didn’t care.

Mollymauk looked much better in the old thing than he ever had.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment if you liked this, it means so much to me and really helps me develop my writing. Come find me on Tumblr @the-somewhat-mighty-nein if you want to request something or read my other heacanons and fics


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